Feral Garden
by Synferi
Summary: Valthar learns of Skarlette's restrictions and attempts to comfort and free her, but the call to duty wins them both only pain.
1. Dark Arbors

_1. Dark Arbors_

_She was beautiful, in a dark, exotic sort of way. She certainly wasn't the kind of lady that turned my head, not with distant, mismatched eyes, dark hair, and a body always hidden beneath crimson chain and rough leather._

_Still, I felt drawn to her. Not sexually. Not romantically. Well, not at first._

_And I can't to this day say what it was in her forlorn spirit that called to me. I consciously sought neither friendship nor even a distant companionship, not from this eccentric cleric. But still, I sought her out._

_What else was I to do on those long summer days? I was a soldier, not a diplomat. I had no duties and no responsibilities; I should have been happy. I spent what time I could in the libraries, but even a new archive of books could not contain my spirit for long and I soon took to the open forests, with meadows and continuously singing brooks scattered throughout the realm._

_But I had seen her, on that first night at the wedding of Bextan and Ishra, and after that every night at the dinner table where she teased the men ruthlessly with good humor. We'd barely spoken two words to each other in the time she'd been there, but I had to admit that it had been a long time since I'd been so enchanted, so taken._

_I think it was her mystery. I had always been open with my fellows, easy going, but not Skarlette. She was closed to the rest of the world. Her every whim seemed to be dictated by the necromancer, whether Valthein knew it or not. Skarlette seemed to have no care for anyone else, even herself at times, and I wondered at her transparency._

_For it was obvious to me that she was very much in love with the necromancer._

_And though this was clear to me, it seemed everyone else was blissfully unaware. After my weeks of silent observation, I even wondered if Skarlette knew it herself._

_And every night I could see her from my window, a silent shadow wandering the long stretches of garden where roses and irises bloomed beside clover and daisies. She moved a bright shadow in the moonlight, slow and purposeless before meandering her way back wherever it was she stayed._

_So, many weeks I watched and waited and bided my time, until curiosity finally got the better of me, and one night I found myself wandering in those gardens, waiting to meet up with the one who haunted its arbors and orchards with the tenacity of any ghost who has gone too long without rest._

_I did not wait long._

_But I could see it was not rest she sought in her pensive melancholy. Perhaps she sought strength. Perhaps she sought wisdom._

_Perhaps she sought comfort. Perhaps I could give it to her. For she was beautiful to me then, as a broken-winged bird struggling for life is beautiful, as a moth crushed under the hooves of a wild mount yet still striving to remain alive is beautiful. She was glorious to me, this scarred soul. Like a dying star too proud to sleep._

_We exchanged greetings in the night. And I suddenly felt as if I were a trespasser._

_But she seemed not offended, and asked me to walk with her in the garden. This I had longed for, and so I agreed, not completely hiding my shock at the offer._

_Together, we strolled through the gardens. And I imagine she wondered at me, much as I wondered at her. "Oft' I have seen you roam the gardens here," I began_

_"Aye. 'tis a custom I have grown fond of."_

_"I see how that can be. The gardens are fairer than most, and made more beautiful for their untamed wildness."_

_A chuckle escaped her, and I marveled at the soft sound; it was free, but somehow despondent. "Their keeper prefers the natural state of things. She hates order, though you won't hear her say it."_

_"I can appreciate such sentiment, for I find this place to be wild yet disciplined, full of unrestrained aesthetics of nature, especially in the night."_

_"Then you know now why I roam here."_

_"I suppose I do."_


	2. Half so Beautiful

_2. Half so Beautiful_

_In those times before I truly knew her, I thought we were as alike as winter is to summer. But that night we parted with friendly words, and met again the next. And so it continued. More often than not, I joined Skarlette in her previously solitary walks, and she seemed not unhappy to have me there. _

_I learned that we were more alike than I could have guessed. It was an amazing thing to me that a refined cleric and thoughtful counselor such as herself and a renowned Paladin like me could find anything about which to speak amiably together, let alone to confide in each other, as we began to do. _

_And I could not deny that our unusual likeness made her modest presence a relief to me. We spoke of family, and learned that we had much in common. We spoke of weapons and wars, and learned that she was not only a mere healer. We spoke of legend and lore, and learned that I was not as uneducated as I thought. _

_But always in our wanderings, it still seemed she searched for something, some intangible need that she knew would never be found in a garden, despite her constant pursuit of it. _

_I guessed her need and I purposed to myself that I could assuage her unfulfilled desires. Aye, and that she could do the same for me, for I thought on her often as she was away attending churchly meetings, as I lay alone in my bed, as we walked together in the night. I thought on her as a beautiful lady who would be gentle and loving and a comfort to me. I knew I could be the same for her if she would only let me._

_The meetings were progressing well she told me, and I mourned that our time together would soon draw to a close. She sensed my own melancholy, but not its cause, and questioned me. _

_"Friend Valthar, I have known you but a short time, but always you have seemed light of heart. May I ask what so bothers you, for you are clearly troubled?" _

_I smiled. "Your concern is kind, Lady Skarlette. I do but bewail the time when we shall have to part company, for there is little in this place that pleases me but for your steadfast friendship and this garden." _

_She nodded, and smiled at me in her turn. "I see, and am honored that you think so highly of me. But there is more here in Camelot than a weary healer and one wild garden." _

_"Aye, there is much more, but none of it is half so beautiful." My smile was mischievous. _

_She did not answer, and I believe she wondered if I spoke of her or of the garden. We walked in quiet company some moments before she found her flustered tongue. Her words, when they came, were quiet and almost tremulous. _

_"I shall grieve your loss as well, for I find I have grown exceedingly fond of you." _

_I halted, rather stunned at her confession. _

_She, too, held her steps and turned with no small amount of fear in dark eyes. "I meant no offense." _

_"You offend me not. For I feel the same," I said simply. "But in truth, I am astonished that you would look to me when your heart so clearly lies elsewhere." _

_"You say you know my heart?" she questioned warily. _

_"Aye, you wear your love for the necromancer like a badge of tainted honor." _

_She turned from me then, inky tresses falling to hide her face. "And you perceive this shame so easily?" _

_"It is no shame to love." _

_"It is to me. But none has ever called me on it; none but you." When she lifted her face to me, I saw unchecked tears gathering in her eyes, though I also saw she was determined not to let them fall. "Was I so obvious?" _

_I parted my lips to reply, but my tongue met only the chill in the air when I realized Skarlette was no longer searching my face with her eyes. Instead, that blue and green gaze wavered at something behind me. The shock in her eyes almost frightened me, but still to this day I will stick with 'almost'. _

_Slowly I turned to come nearly face to face with Adwiew. His dark eyes spoke measures of annoyance. I had never seen this particular Cleric seem so...sinister before. Perhaps it was the moonlight, or perhaps, the darkness. _

"_Lady Skarlette, Valthar." A slight raise of his left brow inquired his acknowledgement in the both of us. I realized then the truth of our position and I slowly stepped away from her. I wonder now what it seemed to the trusted healer; if he thought we had been establishing an illegitimate affair. _

_Nonsense...but then again..._


	3. Perfect Fit

3. Perfect Fit

"Goodnight, my lord," Skarlette murmured softly into my direction and I could've sworn on King Arthur himself that I'd seen a terrified shadow flicker in the moment her eyes had met mine.

I wasn't sure what to think of his smug look as he'd turned and followed Skarlette like a loyal pup tagging along at the heels of its master.

I returned to my room however, aware that whatever happened in that garden that night had more meaning than I had yet to discover.

It seemed painful to close my eyes. Somehow, somewhere my honor was being challenged. I needed to subdue that challenge, but what challenge? I felt as though I was hanging off the ledge of something so profound and my armor was weighing just enough that I could not pull myself up and to safety. Safety. Somehow, the threat towards what my father and his before him had fought for was stronger than any foe Albion has yet to encounter.

This revelation startled me and immediately I forced my thoughts elsewhere.

Oh! If that menacing Cleric had not interrupted us… I sat on my bed and turned towards that empty space where she could have lain. I closed my eyes.

_Dream Sequence _

"_You know my heart?" Skarlette's lips quivered, but a smile immediately followed and her eyes came to life. _

"_Of course you know it, for you are the one holding it," she looked down and I followed her gaze to my hand, which she took softly between both of hers. As she held it, I felt conscious of the roughness of it, almost ashamed that my hands may never feel soft against her delicate flesh. I watched her slowly lift my hand, so large compared to hers, to her chest where I could feel the calm rhythm of her heart. She smiled,_

"_Tis a perfect fit, my lord." I returned her smile and pulled her close against me; for warmth? Nay, for safe keeping._

_end _

When I opened my eyes I realized I was standing before my mirror. As opposed to the soft tunic and leggings I had worn that night, thick armor plastered my body. It had been months of glee since last I saw this regal plate and worn its weight. A sound from the other room startled me from my thoughts of when I'd shaved my face last, for it was certainly smooth this moment.

Looking towards the doorway, I heard again the sound; a struggle of fabric and metal. Curious, I wandered through the doorway to find the young tailor in his sad attempt to drag my sword freshly cased in a brand new halberd.

"Elos, what is happening?" I wondered why this lad seemed in such a hurry as I went to him and eased the sword from his desperate hold. At once he looked at me as though there would be no morrow.

"My lord! Have not you heard a word? The drums…the drums of Midgard are upon us!" As Elos rushed to find my cloak, I realized the meaning, or perhaps the meaning I had wanted to believe, of all I pondered about the lovely Cleric. She'd been in the gardens to memorize them; she seemed solemn because it may have been her last time within the valiant walls of Camelot. Lord Adweiw claimed her last night to prepare her for what she'd been trained for…and I needed to protect her.

"Perfect fit," I smiled despite that it was only Elos saying those words.

I could think of nothing to tell the young tailor, only that if he honored his land it would someday honor him. I fitted my sword, grabbed my shield and as I liked to think, with a whirl of my cape I bound from my room and towards the courtyard where I found many gathered and all of them awkwardly silent.


	4. New Companions

4. New Companions

"A wizard, gifted in the path of ice seeks a party!" the silence was broken by a short Avalonian whose long, pale blond hair had been pulled away from his untarnished face. Untarnished.

Immediately, the vast numbers of people had begun separating into numerous parties of various varieties.

I opened my mouth to ask also for a group, but was interrupted by a lady of the smallest stature and the bluest of skin who grabbed my hand and lead me through the crowd muttering beneath her breath as though she were scolding me as a mother would her young child. In all my long years of training, I had never encountered this dark race of Inconnu, though I have heard of them.

From the world beneath us they hail and with magic like no other. She glanced back up at me and said something in a quick dialect I'd never heard before. Her eyes startled me; large and black with an orange glow that spoke only of mystery.

Her armor too was like nothing I had ever come across. T'was a dark robe with bones; from what, I know not; threaded in like a ceremonial piece fit for raising the dead.

She led me on through the crowd until abruptly stopping so that I had to grasp her fragile shoulders as to not crash into her from the drag of my weighing armor.

Evidently, this mistress of the underworld had claimed me for her group and I had no say in the matter. When I released her shoulders, she quickly moved aboutarranging the six comrades who'd been gathered in discussion. From this small Inconnu, I had expected a voice much like that of a young girl's, but I was wrong, her voice was deep, not like that of a man's but jarring and demanding.

"This is Hidoria, her blades are starved snakes and our foes, mice," Hidoria was an assassin of sorts, the only correlation fitting both her blades and dark apparel. She was lovely enough but I felt no attraction between us. I nodded in acknowledgement and she nodded in return, her eyes narrowing as if she were in the process of judgment.

"This is Chuan, his whip like fire upon the backs of our foes," Chuan rolled his eyes at her endorsement and smiled. Surely, this fellow Briton was a lady killer from his soft blonde locks to his dubious grin. His armor was much like the lady inconnu but much more durable; his chain mail had been freshly polished.

"Bolros, a…homely Friar, he is our source of aid if the fight claims the upper hand." The Friar had his eyes closed and did not respond; perhaps he was meditating, perhaps praying.

"I, am Gisbourne Hawk and this is my lady, Silverlin," this man was clothed very similar to Chuan but had a larger build and his eyes were aged with wisdom. He stepped forward and gave a strong salute to me which I returned proudly. Silverlin curtsied and smiled with more enthusiasm than I had seen in any other this day. Her hair was a fairer shade than both Gisbourne (whose hair was the richest of gold) and Chuan. She wore the fashion of a fellow Paladin. I bowed deeply to her.

The inconnu began to speak again but was quickly interrupted to her obvious dismay by a tall and beautiful Avalonian,

"I am Towon," She curtsied low and elegantly, "And this is Fyen," she gestured toward a large being whose muscles bulged and flesh was like earthen clay, studded with blue stones in an assortment of patterns. I audibly gasped as I bowed to her.

Before dawn I had joined a group that consisted of three holy fighters including myself, three followers of Arawn; the lord of the underworld, an assassin whose allegiance lies within the Guild of Shadows and a woman whose knowledge of dark magic had summoned a creature like nothing I had seen before.

"Ehem. I am Proifa, I shall work diligently to protect the honor of Albion," the blue female smiled a wicked smile and I noticed how sharp her teeth really were. For a moment she wandered around a little ways from us as if searching the ground for lost coins. Before I could ponder her studies she began murmuring incantations. Her eyes locked upon the earth at her feet and a blue aura wisped around her hands and staff. Others turned to watch as the ground slightly rumbled there, I was frozen with curiosity.

A hand seeped forth from the ground, armor clad in the fashion of ancient Rome. For a moment it clawed and grasped at the ground with a companion hand before all at once pulling up a hideous body along with it. A body of bones clad in thick armor. It shook dirt from its many crevices and bit the air a few time as if smacking its lips from a long yawn. Drawing it's sword from the halberd on its back, it swung around with simple skills getting the feel of movement from ages beneath the ground. I felt horrified of this monstrosity and yet so fascinated. I heard few gasps for the courtyard had become silent once more.

A ghostly figure hovered beside the undead warrior, its eyes; orange glows from beyond any world I could imagine.

The power of this small Inconnu was overwhelming, but it created a sense of hope among our ranks. The tension between the one hundred or so Albions lifted and the air seemed fresh so suddenly, it was difficult to breathe.


End file.
